


Strange weather

by Little_Corners



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Fight Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Corners/pseuds/Little_Corners
Summary: Sweeney's in a mood, Shadow has a headache.





	Strange weather

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3000 odd words of ridiculous porn and I make no apology for it.

In the last day alone he’d seen hail, sunshine, a storm and more sunshine. The sky looked like chaos, all brooding clouds the colour of concrete and a jagged blue maw ripped across the middle. The sun, when it got its chance, was hot. The rain, when it fell, was hard and heavy. Today it hammered in to the asphalt like a drumming song and the whole thing made the blood in Sweeney’s veins sing. He’d been walking the highway for hours, bathing in the feel of electricity in the air. He hadn’t been near a bar, but felt five-drinks deep.

He hadn’t realised how bored he’d become, waiting. Hadn’t realised, in fact, that he’d been waiting at all. But something was changing now on a level that he hadn’t acknowledged for some time, and for once, he didn’t feel like riding it out in a bar. He wanted to be out here, in the static, feeling the swell of it. In his mind, he was amongst mottled stone as high as giants, a windswept cliff face above a violent sea. Which was odd seeing as he was in a part of the world which had none of these things. Memory was a funny thing. He ran his tongue across his teeth and smiled in to the rain.

The motel was a mile outside of town, blue neon humming in the grey sky like a lightning rod. It was one of the nicer ones, Sweeney noted as he strode in to the lot. Almost fancy. But he had no inclination to linger, knowing fairly quickly where his quarry was located. He kicked the door twice, waited a second, and kicked it again harder.

‘What?’

Shadow’s voice echoed from behind the closed curtains. Sweeney beamed wickedly and leaned against the door, his ear pressed against it.

‘Ah don’t be like that. I just walked two hours to be here.’

‘No one asked you to.’

Sweeney began to kick the door again, a hard repetitive rhythm to match the rain.

‘I’ll keep going till you let me in….’

He could hear movement, and a definite sigh. It made him grin even wider. When Shadow opened the door, he slid in before there could be any hesitation, like there was no question of his right to be there. The room didn’t look lived in, undisturbed expect for the impression of a body on the still-made bed.

‘What’ve you been doing, sitting in the dark? Fuck kind of person are you?’

Shadow watched Sweeney swagger around the room. He left a tiny trail of destruction as he went; picture’s askew, the phone knocked off its hook, an empty glass falling with a dull thud on to the carpet. Shadow closed his eyes as he felt the headache coming.

‘Just enjoying the quiet’ he said pointedly. He realised his arm was getting wet and shut the door, sending them both back in to the comforting gloom he had been enjoying a moment ago. Deeply mistrustful of what Sweeney would do under the cover of darkness, he turned on the bedside light. At the other end of the room, the Irishman had produced a flask from the inside of his jacket and was pouring himself a drink. He turned and settled his gaze on Shadow, eyeing him intently over the rim of his glass. Water clung to his face and beard, studding his thick hair with dew. Beneath him, the carpet was growing damp.

‘There’s a towel in the bathroom. Feel free…’

Resigned to his presence, Shadow sat back down on the edge of the bed. He’d been trying to get some sleep but it hadn’t been coming easy. Maybe a distraction would be helpful, although he could tell Sweeney was in a weirder mood than usual.

‘You feel it?’

The two men looked at each other across the room, one haloed by the bedside light and the other half in shadow. Sweeney was rolling the liquor around the glass, a slow smile spreading across his face.

‘The energy. That fucking electricity. That….that fucking primordial fucking…’ He made a sound like a low roar, all grunt and curled lip, eye’s closed, head rolled back. ‘Fuck man, it’s better than cumming.’

Shadow raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt. He could see the tendons in Sweeney’s neck flex as he moved, the bob of his throat as he gulped down the rest of his drink in one.

‘Wanna fight?’

Shadow chocked on his own laughter.

‘What?’

Sweeney’s smile seemed to split his face in two, two rows of white teeth glowing slightly in the dark. Even hunched over he still took up most of the corner.

‘You heard me. Fighting or fucking, take your pick. Only things that’ll work on a day like today.’

Shadow shook his head and closed his eyes. He could feel his headache worsening, like a coil being tightened around his skull. He sank back on to the bed.

‘Take it somewhere else’ he said to the blackness behind his eyes. ‘I’m not playing.’

The glass whistled overhead, exploding in to shards against the door. An inch lower and it would have been Shadow’s face. He was on his feet in an instant, muscle moving on memory.

‘Come on then cunt, let’s have ya!’

Sweeney was laughing, pulling his sodden jacket off and the shirt underneath, kicking his boots away under the bed.

‘If it’s fucking you’d rather, I’ve no issue with that. But I’m guessing you’re not all that good at it. You know, seeing as your lady wife had to….’

Shadow was at Sweeney before he could finish the sentence, knowing full well he was being played but not giving the tiniest shit. The satisfying crunch that his fist made against his jaw was worth it. Sweeney only took a second to respond though, catching him full in the face with a vicious right hook. It was clear this was not for play, so Shadow didn’t hold back. Blood mixed with the rain water across Sweeney’s face, blooming like an ugly flower. It made him slick in Shadow’s grasp and he slipped away all too easily, but he never seemed to duck away from a hit. He took everything Shadow gave him with a grin, matching every punch with one of his own. Bone hitting bone, flesh hitting flesh. The only thought Shadow had, over and over; wipe that smirk off his face.

‘There it is! There it fucking is!’

Sweeney was swaying, coming out of his corner now, pulling Shadow with him. His mouth was blood and his eyes wide, standing taller with every hit.

‘This is what we’re made for!’

Shadow gritted his teeth as another hit landed hard against his ribs. Winded, he stumbled but managed to catch Sweeney by the vest and pulled him down to meet his upcoming knee, slamming it into his chest. Sweeney countered with another punch to Shadow’s side. Scrambling to their feet, the two men stood apart, every breath strained and painful. Sweeney spat blood on to the carpet and licked his lips.

‘You love this. Admit it.’

Shadow couldn’t. Even as he stood there throbbing and bloodied, more alert than he’d been in days, sharper, more alive, his headache gone, every nerve dancing, he couldn’t admit it. Sweeney rolled his shoulders back, preparing for another lunge, dancing from foot to foot. Any second now, another hit would come and Shadow would have to meet it.

So he lunged first. In a moment he was in Sweeney’s face. One swift tug brought his head down, their foreheads smacking together hard, and Shadow held it there. The space between them was filled with breath, ragged and sharp, hot and wet. Shadow could feel him try to pull away but it was a poor attempt, as if he were only testing Shadow’s grip. Sweeney was bigger and taller, brute force on his side. Locked in, this close, Shadow knew he was vulnerable. All he could see was Sweeney’s mouth, open. All he could smell, wet grass and iron. He braced for the impact he knew was coming, as Sweeney bared his teeth and bit the air.

The force of the kiss knocked the breath from Shadow. It was not kind. Sweeney kissed violently, desperate and hungry. Without time to think, Shadow found himself yielding all too easily. His mouth opened, Sweeney’s tongue sliding in easily to push at the roof of his mouth. As his head went back, Shadow felt a hand grab his waist to pull him closer. His own hand, still at Sweeney’s neck, gripped tighter and as his nails dug deeper he felt Sweeney moan. His kiss became more demanding. Another hand came up to grasp Shadow’s shoulder and squeezed hard, making Shadow wince. He bit down on Sweeney’s lip.

‘Fuck!’’

They parted. Sweeney’s mouth looked sore and red. Shadow’s breathing laboured. Finally though, they could look one another in the eye. It seemed important to do that, although Shadow wasn’t sure why. Sweeney looked angry, but then he always did. His hand went to the cut on his lip, wincing slightly. It made Shadow laugh; the bruises already swelling on his face were surely more painful. Sweeney watched, a knowing leer beginning to creep in at the corner of his bleeding lip, and Shadow was intensely aware of where his eyes fell; on his mouth, his chest, his crotch. Silence, broken only by their shared breathing, spanned the space between them. But it only lasted a beat. Sweeney was the first one to cross, this time reaching for Shadow’s belt.

‘Wait, stop….’

In the pause, Shadow had at last found a moment to think, although it wasn’t clear about what. He could taste Sweeney still, blood and alcohol mixing on his lips. His head, clear of its ache, now just buzzed. His whole body was tension, with a slow, deep throb that echoed through the very core of him. It came to a head right at the part of him where Sweeney was now so focused, thick fingers undoing his belt buckle and opening his fly. Shadow put his hand across his, a fumbling attempt to stop what he was doing.

‘Hey, I said wait…’

Sweeney didn’t stop, but looked up from under a furrowed brow. His expression was surprisingly soft for one so determined and his voice was low and husky.

‘I gave you a choice. We done one, now we’re doing the other.’

Shadow let his hand fall away, standing still while Sweeney continued. It still made no fucking sense to him, the path that had led from there to here, but it was starting to matter very little. The throbbing was becoming more intense, his cock pushing painfully against the fabric of his clothes, and a familiar need was slowly building. It took only another moment before Sweeney had loosened things enough so that his hand could slip comfortably down the front of Shadow’s jeans.

As his fingers wrapped around Shadow’s cock, Sweeney watched his face. Eye’s falling shut, the head rolling back, the hungry sigh that escaped the slightly open mouth. It was all there. He had an urge to lean in and bite that newly exposed neck, but he resisted. There was too much to enjoy here first. Shadow’s cock was thick and hot, already satisfyingly hard in his hand. Still restricted by clothes, Sweeney couldn’t move much but he could squeeze, and as he did, the guttural moan he got in response was more than pleasing. Sweeney liked fucking. He liked the smell of it, the sound of it, the softness that yielded to hard, the frantic need and blessed release. He liked the way it changed a person, when they were so raw and open. It felt real. And he liked especially the power it gave him. Holding Shadow in his hand like this, watching him twist and writhe with every touch, made him powerful again. There was no denying the attraction in that. Still, there was no fun in a completely pliant partner. He reached out and dragged Shadow’s head back towards his, crushing his mouth again with another rough kiss, biting, sucking, daring him to fight again.

Shadow responded just as he hoped. No longer passive under Sweeney’s hand, he was kissing him back. Demanding fingers were at his throat, pulling him closer, threatening to crush his airway. Sweeney answered in kind, running his thumb across the engorged head of Shadow’s cock until Shadow shuddered underneath him and Sweeney pressed a knowing grin against his mouth. Together, they got rid of the jeans entirely. Free at last to roam as he liked, Sweeney’s fingers encircled Shadow’s cock and began to stroke hard, back and forth. Mumbling obscenities in between gasps, Shadow’s hands were up in Sweeney’s hair, his chest, his back, everywhere in fact above the waistline. Sweeney sensed his hesitation and for a moment, felt his annoyance flare. He amused himself by catching Shadow’s throat in his mouth, sucking hard, teeth teasing the skin. More encouragement was needed.

The change in tone was jarring. One moment, intensity building, every stoke threatening to tip him over the edge and Sweeney’s wet mouth working its way along his jaw. The next, everything stopped, strong hands pushing him over, stumbling, falling backwards. Sweeney was above him as he fell on to the bed, his expression lost in darkness but the intention very clear. Straddling Shadow, one muscular thigh planted firmly at each side of his waist, Sweeney leant back and stretched. In the tussle to the bed, he had removed his own trousers and was now peeling off his damp vest. Skin taunt over thick muscle, the ridges and dips of his body stood highlighted by the soft glare of the bedside lamp. As he edged further forward, Shadow moved his arms out, giving him more room until Sweeney was sat full on his chest, a knee either side. Tentatively, he rested his hands on the bare thighs and looked up to the darkness. There was a loaded pause.

‘Don’t be shy now lad.’

There was only a hint of challenge in Sweeney’s voice, and maybe a slight waver under that all that bravado. Pinned like he was, Shadow could feel the tightness in his body, the expectancy. Sweeney was leaning forward, holding his cock firmly, another hand coming to cup the back of Shadow’s head. Shadow found himself wishing he could see his expression.

As his cock slid in to the warm, wet mouth with only the hint of resistance, Sweeney closed his eyes and groaned loudly. Slipping back and forth, he began to rock his hips slowly, enjoying the sensation as he withdrew nearly all the way out to push back in again, every thrust pressing a little deeper. He felt a tongue run along his entire length, felt the tight slickness engulf him, licking, sucking, greedy. He increased his pace, holding Shadow there while he began to fuck his throat. Somewhere in his belly, he felt that power growing, heightening with every motion. But it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t move like he wanted. Couldn’t get deep. Needed more. Wanted much, much more.

Shadow again felt himself being manoeuvred. Sweeney was quick when he wanted to be, but hunger made him clumsy. Rough hands scraped and pulled, until Shadow was on his front, face buried in the bed. He could hear swearing from behind him, Sweeney fumbling in the half light, the bed groaning under the weight of them both as he moved. And then suddenly, a touch. Flaring intensity. Pressure. Wetness. Fingers opening him up, stretching, gaping. He couldn’t gasp, air escaped him. No thought entered his head. Only instinct now and the urge for more. He arched back, and Sweeney’s fingers pressed deeper. But it still wasn’t enough. Shadow was on the edge of pleading and then, finally, everything. A moment of pain, then just fullness. Slick and wet. He found his voice at last and gasped, groaning in to the bed, rocking back and forth to meet Sweeney’s thrusts. The air was thick with their noise, the heavy slap of skin on skin every time Sweeney slammed in to him. Every inch of him on fire. Every sensation stretched. He could hear Sweeney’s breathing begin to become ragged and sharp, his pace quicken. He growled in to the sheets.

‘Don’t you fucking dare. Not yet.’

Sweeney laughed hoarsely, and Shadow felt his hand again around his cock. Now each thrust was matched by another, every beat from Sweeney’s hips echoed by the movement of his hand. Shadow tried to steady himself, the throb turning in to an ache. All too quickly, he could feel the pressure swelling.

‘Don’t stop…’

He knew Sweeney could end this any second. Everything about this left him vulnerable. He didn’t like to beg. But right now, all he cared about was keeping this going. Sweeney didn’t let him down. Shadow came with a roar, emptying thick and wet in to Sweeney’s hand. Muttering filthy encouragement, Sweeney was renewed, pounding Shadow harder and harder, the full force of his body behind every thrust. In the final seconds, he lent forward to clamp his teeth firmly in Shadow’s shoulder, making him roar again. He didn’t let go until he had ridden out every last drop of his orgasm, grinding down as Shadow bucked beneath him.

And then, a moment suspended. Nothing but heavy breathing and the ebbing away of his pulse as it began to slow again. Shadow felt Sweeney slowly pull away, wincing slightly at the wound his teeth had left, but he didn’t turn to look. Instead, he pushed his head in to the sheets, bathing in the stillness, and perhaps also so that he could have a moment or two longer without acknowledging the other man. He felt bad for it, the awkwardness, but there was no energy in him yet to face it. Thankfully, Sweeney appeared to understand, or at least appeared not to care. Although he was now apart from Shadow, he could still feel him sat at the edge of the bed. He could smell the cigarette he’d lit, and heard the sound of him clearing his throat. He listened also to the sound of him collect his clothes and get dressed, and eventually, Shadow decided to risk a look. Sweeney was buttoning his still-wet jacket, his gaze somewhere else it seemed. It looked for a second as if he were about to leave without a word but as he crossed to the door, he gave Shadow’s bare ass a swift, hard slap.

‘Thanks for the fuck, lad. See you round.’

Shadow could see the wry smile that crossed his face as he opened the door, and even the snatch of a whistled tune. Outside, the rain seemed to be easing again, and as he listened to Sweeney’s footsteps fall away, Shadow finally fell asleep.

 


End file.
